How To Use Exam Viewer For Popular Novel Analysis?

Adrian Vale is a 24-year-old young and strikingly charismatic English professor at Blackwood College. Despite his strict reputation in the classroom and his sharp intolerance for laziness, he remains one of the most admired lecturers on campus, with almost every female student secretly crushing on him. Yet behind his calm authority and flawless image, Adrian is fiercely private and completely uninterested in relationships. ‎ ‎Ryder, 21, is a third-year student at the same college and a rising hockey player known for his talent, arrogance, and troublemaking streak. He’s not a freshman anymore, and his confidence has only grown with time—along with his reputation for challenging authority whenever it suits him. To most people, Ryder is just another cocky athlete with too much freedom and not enough discipline. ‎ ‎Everything changes when Ryder and his friend make a reckless bet—one that challenges Ryder to break Professor Vale’s unshakable control, push him past his limits, and get under his skin in ways no student has ever managed before. Ryder and Professor Vale cross paths in a way neither of them can ignore. What begins as irritation, defiance, and constant clashes in and out of the classroom slowly turns into something far more dangerous. The tension between them is undeniable, blurring the line between hatred and desire. ‎ ‎But at Blackwood College, relationships between students and lecturers are strictly forbidden. One wrong move could destroy Adrian’s career and end Ryder’s future in hockey. Still, neither of them seems willing—or able—to walk away. ‎

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"

On the day of the college entrance examination, my boyfriend's childhood friend realizes she has left her admission pass at home. He insists on going back to get it for her, but I try to stop him. In the end, she misses her liberal arts examination. Driven to despair, she jumps to her death. Later, my boyfriend and I are both admitted to Bloomdale University, the best university in the country. We build successful careers and earn seven-figure salaries—our marriage is perfect. However, on the death anniversary of my boyfriend's childhood friend, he stabs me repeatedly, taking my life. "It was your fault she died," he says. "If I had gone back to get Ginger's admission pass, she wouldn't have lost hope and taken her life." When I open my eyes again, I realize I am back on the same day of the examination. My boyfriend's anxious voice rings in my ear. "Amelia, I need to go back to get Ginger's examination admission pass." This time, I smile and say, "Go ahead. Please be careful."

As soon as I walk out of the college entrance exam venue, the police bring me to an interrogation room for interrogation purposes. There, the officers are able to dig out the tools used for cheating in the exams from my clothes. Then, they arrest an accomplice who has helped out with the cheating process in a nearby hotel. As soon as the accomplice sees me, he claims that I'm the one who has hired his services. After that, he gives a confession on the entire cheating process and how we conducted this transaction. All the evidence is present. Soon, news of me cheating on the college entrance exam is spread throughout the Internet. My parents try to defend my innocence, but they ultimately fail. In the end, they die gruesome deaths at home due to cyberbullying. As for me, I suffer from a cardiac arrest shortly after receiving the bad news of their deaths, and I die soon after. I still fail to understand what has happened, even when I draw my last breath. After all, I've never done anything, but why is it that the evidence all points to me being the cheater? When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before the college entrance exams are set to begin.

My younger sister, Joey Crawford, and I have taken the exam 20 times in a row. Yet, our answer sheet shows the exact same answers every time. No matter how fast I complete the exam, Joey is able to turn in her paper one second before me. My homeroom teacher, Mr. Harris, has spoken with me three times regarding this matter. At the same time, I receive my first warning for cheating on the exams. Whenever my classmates see me, they say to me, "Hey, cheater! You got busted this time, huh?" The thing is, I've never even touched Joey's paper. How can our answers be exactly the same? During the college entrance exam, I suddenly awaken to the ability to see the live comments dangling in midair. "The female lead is the chosen one! It must feel amazing to have awakened the mind-reading ability and all!" "She relies on reading the side character's mind just to obtain all the answers. So what if the side character excels in her studies? Her role is to become the female lead's stepping stone to success!" It turns out that Joey has been stealing my answers by reading my mind this whole time. As I flip the exam papers over, I start singing the alphabet song mentally. "A-B-C-D-E-F-G…"